No Comment

Lyrics

[Intro] (Ayy, JayGotThePlug) (Suburban Dude) They got me on the tag too Yeah Ayy, that's what— Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' 'bout Ayy [Verse] Nigga drunk as hell off a Budweiser, hatin' on me to a runner Crib come with a butler, put her out 'cause I don't trust her Pull up shootin' .223s at 'em like No Jumper Feel like Tina Turner, I was on tour with a puncher I'm Mr. Pull-Your-Panties-Up, bae, I ain't got no rubber Lil' nigga got his first ten, he Lindsey Hunter Four-five box a nigga in like a Hummer Somewhere in the mountains with Lil Nell smokin' Gushers Hand-me-downs only time he feel how foreign shoes feel Bought a condo just to BnB it in West Bloomfield Pockets full of blue bills, probably why I'm rude still Nah, bitch, we ain't makin' love, I feel like Dru Hill Drunk as hell, suckin' my bitch titties like her boobs real I ain't into shit but gettin' money, neck, and doin' drills Ayy, we kept beatin' murders, we got RICO for them blue pills Feds did a sweep, but I ride around with brooms still This nigga still dirty Know my dog'll never talk, he got real courage Finna take a knee, the opps is in the field hurtin' Pink ten got her floatin', that's my lil' Kirby Huh, and since we on topic, if you got some business, better go on 'bout it Life is good, I woke up to breakfast from a throat goblin She the best with them pancakes, your bitch an O-lineman Like a shoplifter, I snuck hammy in my coat pocket When they catch you, I'ma be soarin', sippin' Wocky, boat ridin' Say he got my drop but never been, he like Foamposites I understand your brother shoes nice, but let's see your closet Don't ask me 'bout these bum-ass niggas, no comment Tired of hearin' 'bout 'em, everything is weird about 'em Fresh to death, throwin' signs like I got a hearing problem Huh, bitch pussy tight as hell, don't even feel the condom I got ate in the mansion too, damn, I feel Obama I know you love that bitch and all, but I'm still gon' pop her I'm so used to long backends, I'm like a limo driver He found out I dogged the bitch and he still gon' wife her I can't give a bitch the world, but I feel Osiris That just ain't me, Louis cotton, say cheese I'm a boss now, I was a boss then, baked beans Brodie tryna slide, I'm like, "Let's get it," feel like Tay Keith Baow, gave your mans a headshot like he turned eighteen